


The Worlds of the Traveler

by The_Traveler25



Category: Multi-Fandom
Genre: Action/Adventure, Fantasy, Gen, Original Character(s), Original Fiction, Self-Insert, long story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-14 15:02:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28797303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Traveler25/pseuds/The_Traveler25
Summary: "Did I ever tell you the story of the Traveler?"Willow's nieces and nephew wanted a story. So, she delivers. She gives them a story she knows well, one of someone called the Traveler. Just a story. Or is it? Back home, something is bothering Willow, but what is it? It can't be the number of unpacked boxes, after all, she and her husband have made progress on moving into their new home. No, something else is lingering in the back of her mind, something else...





	1. "Tell Us a Story!"

“Aunty, come on, tell us a story!” a young girl commanded, bouncing onto the couch to sit. Her blonde hair followed, landing in a mess. She quickly ran her hands through it to fix it, but it hardly made a difference. 

“You tell the best stories!” an older boy said, glancing up a moment from his phone. He set it down, watching and hoping for a story. He lifted and sat the youngest girl on his lap, both seeming intrigued. 

“Alright, alright, one quick story,” a blonde-haired woman laughed, taking a seat on the couch. “But only one, okay?”

“Aww, fine-” all three kids said in unison, earning a chuckle from their aunt.

“Have I ever told you the story of the Traveler?” the woman glanced between them and got head shakes in return. “Well, then I say you’re in for a treat.” 

~~~

Years and years ago, there was this young girl. And this young girl was like any other kid her age, for the most part anyway. She quite liked school, much more than her fellow students. But one thing she did have in common was her creative imagination. 

Now, when you’re her age of eight or nine, you are often influenced by the world around you. And this was true for this girl. She was influenced by the things she watched on tv. She  _ so _ wanted to be a part of those worlds. They all seemed so amazing, so cool. She’d wanted that since she was younger, to be a part of the worlds that were simply fiction. 

So, like any child, this girl started imagining stories for herself where she existed in these worlds. Where she had her own story in these worlds. She’d pretend to interact with those in these worlds. She’d go on adventures. She daydreamed about these places a lot. They gave her an escape, a place to be when the real world was mean and cruel as it often is. 

While kids tend to lose most of their imagination for this type of thing, the girl’s only grew. Slowly, more and more fictional universes were added to the places the girl wished to exist. She alternated between them, creating stories that she wished more than anything were real, true stories. 

And one day, that wish came true. While the girl was daydreaming as she often did, she was suddenly seeing one of her story worlds around her. She moved around and was able to interact with others. It was real, one of her first worlds was finally real. When she snapped out of the world, she hadn’t moved from the spot she had been sitting. Hardly any time had passed, and the girl was amazed! 

That night, while she was asleep, she dreamt, or at least what she thought was a dream, of a dark room. Around her, mirrors stood. But the crazy thing was that these mirrors were empty. They had no reflections of anything, not the girl, and not the room. She was confused as to where she was, and why the mirrors were empty of reflections. 

As the girl wandered around, a large, light purple orb appeared in the center of the room. Curious, the girl approached the orb. Upon closer inspection, it was swirling with what looked like magic. The girl went to touch it, but the magic of the orb surrounded her and became one with her. The girl could feel the magic inside of her. 

When she woke up the next morning, the girl still felt the magic inside of her. She hadn’t just been dreaming. She now possessed strong magic. What could this magic do? Well, it was able to transport her to the worlds she wanted to exist in. she didn’t have to pretend they were real, they were truly real to her. She actually existed in all the places she had wished to. 

As time went on, and the girl added more stories to her collection, often adding more worlds, the magic inside of her became draining. It became tiring to hold and contain. And so, the girl moved the magic into a necklace. This necklace was somehow able to contain the magic. The girl did this again, moving the magic into another necklace, and finally, the magic was moved into a bracelet. That’s where the magic remained. 

The girl tried to share her stories with her family and friends, but none seemed to understand just how real they were to her. But that was okay with her, the girl knew they were real to her. Her friends and family could simply brush her stories off as fiction, but they were real to her, and that’s all that mattered. 

As she got older, the girl found it harder to go on her adventures and juggle the demands of reality. And so, one day, while her family was moving out of their old house that the girl had grown up in, she said goodbye to her worlds. She said goodbye to the stories, the family and friends, and the adventures her other worlds had given her. And she moved on, living her life in her reality. Living the life she had to. 

~~~

“And that is the story of the Traveler,” the woman finished, glancing at the faces of the three kids. 

“Wait, that’s how it ends? What happened to her?” the boy asked, eyes wide with curiosity. 

“Some say she’s still around, living among us. Others say she might resurface as the Traveler one day.”

“Is she real?” the youngest girl asked excitedly.

“That’s what some people say. Others think she’s simply a story.”

“Well, can you tell us more of her stories?” the other girl adjusted so she was sitting against the back of the couch again. 

“Stories about who now?” a woman with shorter blonde hair entered the living room, carrying plates of cookies in both hands. She set them on the coffee table. The kids decided the cookies were the most important thing, disregarding the question and instead moving from their spots to grab the fresh chocolate chip cookies. 

“Oh, told them the story of the Traveler,” the long hair woman answered, leaning between the kids to grab a cookie for herself.

“She never seems to go away,” the short-haired woman shook her head softly.

“No. but she had a good story,” the long-haired woman took a small bite of the cookie. They were still warm and fresh. She savored the bite a moment before looking at the watch on her wrist. She quickly stood up, taking a couple more bites of the cookie. 

“You got to go?” 

“Yes, I promised to help unpack the rest of the boxes this afternoon,” the woman grabbed a purse and a set of keys off the nearby table. 

“Thanks for hanging out with the kids. Oh, and Willow-” the long-haired woman turned to look back, her hand on the doorknob. “-be careful.” 

The woman smiled and nodded as she opened the door and left. The late afternoon was quite warm despite it being September. She unlocked her purple jeep and started it. 

~~~

The woman’s drive home wasn’t long, but she had been slightly zoned out for a majority of it. She made it home safely, knowing the route like the back of her hand at this point. 

“Willow, that you?” a man called from somewhere inside the house as the woman closed the door behind her. 

“Only me!” she called back, setting her keys on a tray and hanging her purse on the same hook as usual, on top of a few of her lighter jackets. 

The woman made her way upstairs, maneuvering around boxes, shelves, and other items that have yet to find their place in the new house. She followed the sound of items being moved around and muttering. 

“How’s it going?” the woman entered a room full of boxes and furniture. She sat on the nearest chair, glancing at the man as he placed a box on the ground. 

“We have a lot of stuff,” he laughed, walking towards her. He kissed her on the head, and the woman smiled softly. 

“Anything interesting?” 

“Not much. Although,” the man moved to a shelf across the room from the door. “I did find this.” 

The woman got up and approached the shelf as the man turned, holding a small box. Upon closer inspection, there was a small engraving of two simple words on the lid, and the latch was hinged shut. 

“I figured you knew what it was,” the man said, handing it to her. The woman simply nodded, tracing her fingers over the engraved words. An engraving that simply said  _ The Traveler _ . A woman’s smile had faded, and now she looked sad and upset. She bit her lip softly, running her fingers over the latch on the box. 

“What is it?”

“Just, just a story. That’s all it is, apart of a story,” the woman set the box down, her expression changing yet again. She dropped her hands to her side quickly, glancing up at the man. 

“What’s inside?” the man moved to open the latch, but the woman’s hand was quicker, stopping his hand before the latch had been moved at all.

“Please, please don’t open it,” she muttered, glancing down at the wooden box. She dropped her hand again and walked away, towards a set of boxes that were labeled simply as  _ clothes _ . 

The man went to say something but decided not to. He closed his mouth, watching the woman open a box. She began to pull out random shirts, all of which he knew were her’s. She glanced at them before shaking her head and throwing them back into the box. 

“I’m- I’ll go start some dinner,” she mumbled, heading for the doorway of the room. It was still early afternoon, but the man simply nodded. His wife seemed distressed, best not to push her emotions much further. Still, he wondered what was in that box. 

The woman arrived downstairs and sat on the couch, resting her head in her hands. She knew the box had moved with her, but she hadn’t expected to see it again this soon. Nor had she expected so many emotions about it. 

“Tell us a story,” a voice said from somewhere. The woman looked up, glancing around the fairly empty room. No one was around. Perhaps she was tired and simply hearing things. 

Upstairs, despite his wish to respect her wishes, the man opened the wooden box slightly, just enough to see what was inside. Much to his disappointment, he saw a bracelet. A worn black cord with a swirl charm that was bronze with a few hints of silver. Following the shape of the bracelet were the roman numerals for one to twelve, growing smaller with the swirl until they simply stopped. The man frowned, thinking there had been something much more exciting the woman had not wanted to see. He closed the box and locked the latch, resuming his unpacking. 

The woman glanced around again before laying down on the couch, her eyes closing slowly once she was sure no one was around. She began to doze off, her breathing becoming slower with more drawn out breaths. The room became quiet, only the sound of the man upstairs heard, but even those were muffled. 

“Yes, please, do tell us a story, Traveler. We’ve been waiting for so long, after all.” sarcastic chuckles followed the voice this time, a male voice now. 

“No!” the woman jumped up from the couch, shaking, and gasping. She buried her head in her hands again, trying to get a hold of herself. 

The man rushed down the stairs, nearly missing a few along the way. He quickly pulled the trembling woman into a supportive hug, swaying softly and muttering comfort to her. 

“I’m- I’m fine,” the woman glanced up at him, pushing herself out of his arms. “Just uh, spooked myself real bad. Really, I’m fine.”

“If you’re sure,” the man released her slowly, frowning. She had stopped shaking, but she still seemed out of it.

“Dinner, right. I’ll go start that,” she suggested, heading into the kitchen. She began pulling items from the fridge and cupboard before grabbing some pans. 

The man watched her a moment before he made his way back up the stairs. The woman continued to start making dinner, although her movements were delayed between each step. She paused, biting her lip and setting a pan down. She quickly made her way up the stairs after her husband. 

“I owe you an explanation,” she called, darting down the hallway after him. He glanced back at her, his head tilted to the side in confusion. 

“About what?”

“About, about a lot.” the woman entered the cardboard box filled room, grabbing the small box off the shelf. She traced the letters again slowly, absorbing the name that was carved into the wood. 

“Willow, I’m confused. Everything?” the man sat on the nearest chair to where he stood. The woman nodded, taking a seat across from him on the nearby bench. She sat criss-cross, glancing at him a moment. 

“Are you ready for a story?” the woman held the box in her hands, her hand tracing the latch. 

“I, I guess,” the man glanced at his wife, now severely confused. 

~~~

Inside this box is a small bracelet. It’s simple, there’s nothing special about its design. It was, for a long time, just a bracelet. Until, well, it was used to hold magic. This magic was used by a girl who used the magic to travel to different, dimensions, if you will. These dimensions were based on things she watched on tv or read about. Things made simply for our entertainment. 

She, or I guess I, went by The Traveler in these dimensions. I lived the life of The Traveler alongside my real life. Until I was no longer able to. When my family moved out of my childhood home, I gave up this life. A life that I had lived as an escape from reality and a way to exist in all the places I wished were real. 

When I said goodbye, I gave up the magic as well. I did so by putting that bracelet inside of this box. I closed it, and have only opened it once since then. I nearly forgot it had been in the things I brought here until you found it. 

~~~

“Wait, so, all those stories you told me about. They- they’re real?” the man held his mouth open, staring at his wife who had hardly moved. 

“Yes, and, I-I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I never thought it would cause problems,” she replied, setting the box next to her and resting her arms on her knees as if meditating. She closed her eyes, listening carefully. She knew what was coming.

“Problems, what problems-?” the man jumped slightly at her comment. 

His answer came in the form of a very loud knock on their front door. 

“Best get that. Wouldn’t want to keep Officer Johnson waiting any longer,” the woman moved from her spot. “After all, it’s been years already that he’s waited.”


	2. The Officer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Knock knock. 
> 
> Willow wanted to leave it all behind her. After finally explaining things to her confused husband, a visitor arrives at their door, knocking. Who is it, and what does he want with the Traveler?

The man gave his wife a concerned, questioning glance. She simply gestured for him to leave the room. The knocking returned a moment. Four simple knocks. The man turned from the room and headed for the door rather quickly, muttering under his breath. It was a lot to take in, both his wife’s explanation and the officer now knocking at their door. 

The woman watched him leave the room, and instantly she began panicking, muttering, and moving things around the room. He would’ve found her eventually, but she wasn’t ready. She thought she still had years. She hadn’t been the Traveler in nearly six or seven years. Why was he still after her?

The woman grabbed a sweater that hung halfway out of a box of random clothing items and threw it at the chair near the door. She began rummaging through other boxes, looking for something, anything. Bad memories tried to shift her focus. Lost memories, not being able to save those she cared about, the dagger. He likely had it with him. After all, it was his favorite thing to taunt her with back then. He likely kept it with him all the time, should he have ever found her again. 

Her hand wrapped around the handle of a kitchen knife that had somehow not made it downstairs with the rest. Perfect. The woman carried it out the door with her, grabbing the sweater and wrapping it around her as she neared the stairs. 

She heard the voices downstairs, but they were blocked out by memories that had decided to take up her mind. Always on the run from him. This officer had picked a fight with her years ago, the reasons still unclear to her. He had a normal life, he was a good man. 

Slow steps, one by one, down the stairs. The knife was now flat against her chest, hidden by the sweater, the woman crossing her arms. Slowly descending the stairs and heading towards the door, she took a quick deep breath. 

“Hey, honey, what’s going on?” the woman interrupted the conversation between the two men, giving the officer a soft smile. He hadn’t changed much. Looked nearly the same as he had years ago, reddish-brown hair under his police cap, a matching short beard and mustache. The same blue uniform he always wore. The only change was he looked more worn and slightly older. Her eyes spotted the sheath the dagger was kept in, and sure enough, a hilt rose just above it. She was right, he brought it. 

“This is Officer Johnson. He thinks we know something about a Traveler,” the man responded, raising an eyebrow as he glanced at his wife. Was she suddenly cold? 

“The Traveler, actually. Like, the original,” the officer glanced at the woman who had entered. If it was who he thought it was, she really hadn’t aged a day. She looked the same as the last time he saw her. Probably why it had been so easy to eventually find her once she settled down. 

“I’m sorry, the- that name doesn’t sound familiar,” the woman kept her eyes on the officer. 

“Well, you see, she was involved in quite a few, incidents, if you will,” the officer let himself into the house and off the porch, the glass door closing behind him. The light slam of it caught the woman off guard, and she flinched. She kept her kind smile, but her eyes were now wide with worry. 

“If I see or hear anything about her, I’ll be sure to let you know.”

“I don’t think you understand the threat she poses. You see, she went missing about seven years ago.”

“So why keep hunting her down if she’s gone?” the woman leaned against the wall, adjusting her arm so one hand now wrapped around the knife handle. 

“I have reason to believe she’s not gone. That she’s simply blending in with the general population.” 

“We told you, we don’t know of her or where she is,” the man chimed in, moving between the officer and his wife. The officer now had a hand gently wrapped around the dagger on his belt. 

“Very well. Please, enjoy the rest of your night,” the officer turned towards the door after tipping his cap politely at the couple. 

The woman began to sigh with relief, but the officer turned to face them again. She grasped the knife, tighter now, her arms slowly uncrossing. 

“One last question,” the officer pulled the dagger from its sheath, turning it to admire it. A simple blade, no longer than seven inches. It shimmered in the light as it was turned. A simple engraving rested just under the handle, one too small to make out from their vantage point. 

“I would like it if you could put that blade away,” she responded harshly. 

“You and I both know I’m not the only one carrying a blade, ma’am,” Johnson smirked, watching the knife fall into his vision as the woman dropped her arms, confirming that yes, the woman had a knife. The man glanced at her, then back at the officer. 

“Duck,” the woman motioned for her husband to get down. She held the knife tight enough her pale fingers turned red from the pressure. 

“Now now, let’s keep this civil.”

The man, while he didn’t duck, moved behind a nearby wall, watching his wife. She glanced down at the knife she held and lowered her shoulders. Slowly, she moved the knife from one hand to the other, setting it on a nearby surface. She waved her now empty hands at him before dropping them back to her side.

“I need you to examine this blade. See if it looks familiar,” the officer offered it to the woman, who approached slowly. She bit her lip lightly as more painful memories came up. She knew exactly what that dagger could do. How weak even being near it could make her feel. 

Johnson held the blade of the dagger, offering the handle to the woman. Slowly, the woman reached for the brown hilt, closing her eyes tightly as she wrapped her fingers around it. Before even truly touching it, she had felt a burning sensation in her hand, but she took the dagger from him and held it a moment, shaking her head. 

“I can’t say I recognize it,” the woman handed it back, glancing at the engraving. A swirl, pointed to the right of the blade, a single slash mark passing across it. A unique feature of this blade. 

The officer frowned, taking the blade back. He gave it another glance before putting it back into its place on his belt. He tipped his cap at her again in thanks, his eyes looking her over one last time. If it was her, how had she managed to touch the blade?

The woman smiled at him and glanced at her red palm and fingers while her other hand caught her as she leaned against the nearest surface. Her husband emerged from his hiding spot and helped catch the woman. She began gasping, placing her arm on his shoulder. 

The officer watched a moment, his face smirking at her. He watched as the man caught her as she began to collapse. Her gasping continued a moment, her breathing slowly returning to normal. 

“Seems I found you, Traveler,” the officer bent down onto a knee, glancing at the woman who was slowly recovering from whatever had happened. She used her husband to help her return to her standing position. 

“Been- been a while, huh Johnson?” she responded in between breaths. She glanced at her right wrist, but remembered her bracelet wasn’t on her. She frowned a moment, holding the bare wrist in front of her a moment. Her bracelet wasn’t on, why had the dagger affected her so badly? The officer took note of this detail as well, shaking his head and laughing quietly. 

“Seems, despite not having that bracelet, you still have some magic,” he chuckled. He reached for the dagger again. “My my, Traveler. Or, what’s it you go by? Willow? Either way, you’re still the Traveler, no matter how hard you try to escape that.”

The woman turned towards the stairs and pulled her husband with her, running for the living room and cover behind the furniture. She let go of the man and jumped over the couch, falling to the ground. Her husband followed. Johnson had thrown the dagger while they turned, and it barely missed them as they ducked. Instead, the dagger ended up in the wall across the room, shaking a moment before resting still. 

“Get out of my house,” the woman ordered, lifting herself from the floor. Her husband went to get the dagger from the wall, although he was hesitant to grab it. Shaking his head, he pulled the dagger from the wall. He felt fine, it was like holding any other knife. Why had it had such an effect on his wife? Shrugging, the man approached the officer, handing him the blade. Johnson yanked it from him, frowning. 

“Very well, Traveler,” the blade was sheathed yet again. “But, I’ll be back. We have some catching up to do.” 

“My name is Willow,” the woman snapped, pointing at the door. “And you will leave me, my husband, and the rest of my family alone.”

Johnson held his hands up in defense, heading for the door. He left fairly quickly, heading back to his car parked on the street. He glanced back, but the front door had been closed and the lights turned off. He frowned and climbed back into his car. He went to put the keys into the ignition but hesitated. His hand dropped to his lap, fingers tapping his lap as he lost himself in thought. 

Willow collapsed on the couch, closing her eyes. She felt the couch shift as her husband sat next to her. He put his arm around her and pulled her closer. The woman lifted her legs on the couch next to her, resting against her husband. 

“Who was that?” the man asked after a too-long moment of silence.

“Just who he said. Officer Johnson.” Willow kept her eyes closed, adjusting so she was sitting in a more comfortable position. 

“Why is he after you?”

“I- I never figured that out. He’s always been there, ever since I first became the Traveler.”

“What’s that dagger?” the man was asking simple questions. He had plenty more, but wasn’t sure what would be pushing his wife’s limits currently. 

“He called it the Anti-Traveler blade. It counters the magic.”

“The magic of the bracelet?” he glanced down to see the woman nod slightly. 

“But, you aren’t wearing the bracelet. So why did it hurt you?”

“I guess I still have a bit of magic with me.”

The sounds of the pipes in the walls and the nearby clock were all that filled the space. Somewhere in the basement, the heater kicked on, humming to life. Despite this, the woman pulled the sweater around her slightly tighter. 

“I’m sorry,” Willow glanced up at her husband’s face, trying to read his expression. She curled herself into a smaller lump on the couch, tucking her head into the sweater that, despite having been bought years ago, was still far too big on her. 

“Don’t- no need to be sorry. I just-”

“It’s a lot to take in, I know.” 

“Who else knows? About you being the Traveler I mean.”

“One of my sisters. I used to tell her about all my adventures. But, well, she thought they were only stories, same as everyone else.” 

“Oh.” the man wasn’t the first to know, but he wasn’t the last either. He frowned slightly, his eyes glancing at the small hole in the wall now. 

“I never finished dinner,” the woman let out a small laugh, but it faded fairly quickly. 

“That’s okay. How about I go get us something? It’s a bit late to cook anyway,” the man slid out from under his wife, gently placing a kiss on her forehead. She simply nodded in response as she adjusted to let him move. Once he was standing, she lay down. 

The man gave her another kiss on the forehead before heading for the door, grabbing a set of keys as he passed their tray. Out the door he went, shutting the wooden door behind him. 

After hearing the car start outside and the sound of it pulling out of the driveway, the woman sat up on the couch, wrapping her arms around her legs. Slowly, she rocked side to side, muttering things to herself. That it would be okay. She was only dreaming. None of her efforts to comfort herself seemed to work. She knew in the back of her mind, it was real. She had made her choice years ago. These were the consequences, poking their heads into her life one by one. 

A loud knock on the door made the woman jump and fall on the floor with a thud. She shook it off and got up slowly, wrapping the sweater around her tightly. 

She wasn’t fast enough. The door was thrown open by whoever was on the other side. The woman grabbed the knife off the table as quickly as possible, ducking behind the couch. Her husband couldn’t be home already, and he wouldn’t have opened the door with such force. 

“I told you, we have some catching up to do.” 

The woman’s shoulders dropped, her lips pressed together tightly. Great, he was back. 

“I told you to leave me alone,” she called, quite loudly, hoping he thought she was somewhere else in the house. 

“I won’t hurt you, Traveler. I simply want to talk.” 

“Yeah, right. Just like all the other times?” 

“This time I swear it. Adult to adult. Simple conversation.”

Right, the woman nearly forgot. Their last interaction had taken place just before she turned eighteen. Just before she traveled overseas for a few months. 

“Put the blade outside. On the porch,” she instructed. She peeked over the couch, bringing the officer into her view just enough she could watch him leave it behind. 

“Unfortunately, I can’t. You see, what’s stopping you from attacking me?”

“The blade isn’t your only mean of defense.”

“And that knife isn’t yours.” 

“Fine. but you stay by the door, I stay over here,” the woman slowly stood, frowning. Currently, the knife was her only form of defense. Unless she could get upstairs, but she knew that wouldn’t happen. 

Johnson smirked as the woman stood. He found it funny to see her this way, scared, fragile, panicked. It wasn’t a side she had shown often. She had always seemed to have a brave face, full of confidence in herself. Not anymore. He hadn’t seen this look on her since their very first encounter. 

“What’s the matter, Traveler? Feeling powerless without your little bracelet?”

“What do you want?”

“I’ve told you, I want to talk.”

“Aren’t you breaking some law by being here?”

“Talking to someone who may have connections with someone dangerous and seeing they have a knife is probable cause, and that’s all I need to be here.” 

The woman crossed her arms, holding the knife under her arm and at the ready. She leaned against the wall, close to where the dagger had pierced it. The sweater fell off one of her shoulders, but she paid it no mind. 

Johnson lightly shut the wooden door behind him, leaving it open just enough he’d know if someone was outside. His hand rested on the hilt of the dagger, light enough he didn’t yet hold it, but he was at the ready if the need for it arose. When it arose. 

“Where have you been all these years?” he asked, looking back up at the woman. Her eyes still held their signature look, tired but curious. 

“After our final encounter, I traveled the world. Took a gap year. Then I joined the Air Force, as you probably know. Got married about a year and a half ago. Living life like anyone else.” the woman glanced at the ring around her left ring finger before glancing back towards the officer. 

“Why’d you do it? Why’d you give it all up?”

“It was, it’s-” the woman paused, closing her eyes and sighing. “-It was better the alternative. I had a chance to go back and I-”

“You didn’t take it. Why?”

Willow kept her eyes closed, uncrossing her arms. Images played back through her head. The box. Her sitting near a pond and a brand new dock. The glimpse she was given of the future. The sacrifices she would’ve had to make, and for what? No, she made the right choice. She got to live the life she had wanted well before magic existed in her life. 

“It wouldn’t have been worth it. I- I wouldn’t get to live this life I have now.”

“Funny, I thought you always wanted to be the Traveler.” the officer chuckled, shaking his head slightly. The woman had always been so dramatic when it came to things like this. So emotional.

“I thought so too. But then I remembered I had dreams well before I had the magic.” the woman rolled her eyes. Seems the officer forgot she hadn’t always been the Traveler. She had once been just a normal girl with an overactive imagination. And, more importantly, a girl who had planned her entire life and exactly what she wanted to do before any of her friends did. And her plan has remained mostly the same since then. 

Silence sat between them, the heater still humming loudly through it. The woman left her spot on the wall and moved into the kitchen, putting away the random pans and food items she had gotten out earlier. She had set the knife on the countertop, not needing it to put away everything. Johnson followed, leaning on a nearby wall, watching her. He glanced at the knife, and his hand slowly came off the hilt of the dagger. 

“Can I get you something, Johnson?” the woman glanced towards him as she finished putting away the last of her unused dinner supplies. 

“No, I’m fine.” 

The woman shrugged and began to make coffee. She dumped the used grounds and filter into a small bin on the counter before adding the new and fresh of both. She turned the faucet on and filled the pot with water. 

“Anything else you need then?” she poured the water into the tank of the coffee maker. The flowing water became the loudest noise for a moment. 

“You want me gone or something, Traveler?”

“Well for one, you’re acting more like you wanted chat than probable cause. Two, well, the last seven or so years of my life have been quite nice without you around.” 

“I’m quite offended,” the officer smirked, his hand now reaching for the handcuffs he kept on his belt. “Unfortunately, the probable cause still stands.”

The woman turned towards him, watching as he pulled out the handcuffs. He began to undo them and walk towards her.   
“I’ve done nothing! You can’t just arrest me,” she reached for the knife on the counter, her fingers barely able to wrap around it. 

“I’ve been looking for you seven years now, Traveler.”

“This goes way beyond probable cause. Now it’s just personal,” the woman had stumbled back into the living room, the knife grasped tightly in her hand. 

“Perhaps. However, I do recall a teenager sneaking into a police station once.”

“That was years ago. And, if I recall, you kept no record of it.”

“Well, there happens to be footage of someone looking like you at quite a few different places where things went, how shall we say this? Took a turn for the worse.”

The woman paused, her lips trembling as her eyes widened. Oh no, he kept it. All of it. All the footage from a time when she hadn’t been herself. She was sure no one else had seen it yet. But, that would change once she was brought in. and his probable cause was that she was tied to those events. And while it was her in the footage, it wasn’t. She hadn’t been herself, and Johnson had played a part in that. 

“You- that still- it still exists?” her grasp on the knife loosened, and she nearly dropped her only form of defense. 

“Told you, probable cause.” 

The woman dropped the knife and ran for the stairs. Johnson pulled out the dagger and followed her, handcuffs clanking in his other hand. 

“You know those all weren’t my fault!” she screamed, trying to put some distance between her and the officer. 

“But, well, everyone else won’t. And it is you in the footage, Traveler.”

“It’s been seven years! Why can’t you leave me be?” the woman tripped over a box and crashed to the ground. The box fell and its contents spilled out onto her. Books, lots and lots of books. Paperback, hardcover, didn’t matter. The weight of them all was heavy, and the woman struggled to crawl out from under the pile. 

“I gave you a warning. You could’ve gone in easily. I might have even been kinder,” Johnson reached for her, the handcuffs hanging over his wrist. He managed to grab one of the woman’s arms and pulled her from the ground. 

“You won’t ruin my life, not again.” the woman grabbed a book and swung it at him, trying to wriggle her other arm free. Johnson loosened his grip when the book hit his face. Loosened it enough the woman broke free and kicked him in the gut. Despite having some combat training, the woman stumbled back into more boxes, sending more books and other assorted belongings all over the floor. 

Johnson recovered quickly from the kick. Despite her best efforts, Willow wasn’t all that strong compared to him. He tilted his head and lifted the dagger, holding it up a bit higher. 

“Enough games, Traveler. You had your chance,” the dagger fell, stayed down a moment, then rose again, the woman gasping. Glancing down, she saw her shirt beginning to turn red at the shoulder. Her vision became blurry, and she fell to the ground, gasping as she placed her hand on the wound. 

She wasn’t sure why, but she began to crawl across the floor as best she could. Her sweater began to drag behind her as she tried to put pressure on the wound. Her gasping became worse rather than better while she attempted to keep her injury off the ground. 

“Give up, Traveler,” Johnson watched her a moment. She hadn’t gotten all that far. Her movements became slower each time she moved, her wincing becoming more and more noticeable. 

Willow simply shook her head, crawling into the room full of boxes. The boxes looked more like blobs of brown to her. She closed her eyes tightly, trying to get them to focus. 

“You- you know that- I don’t do that,” she responded, her uninjured arm reaching for a small, blurry object resting on a bench, a faint purple glow emerging from it. Her finger slid the latch open and opened the small box. She pulled the object out, knocking the open box to the floor in the process. It lay, open, on the ground near her head. 

“You’d think after all these years, you’d have become smarter,” Johnson shook his head as he watched the woman roll onto her back, letting out a quick scream of pain. 

“I- guess that’s- my charm,” a small bracelet fell past her hand and onto her wrist. Instantly, the glow became brighter, a lavender cloud surrounding the swirl of the bracelet. Johnson lifted the dagger again, the handcuffs having been dropped on the floor. 

The woman closed her eyes and drew a shape in the air and threw her hands apart. Instantly, a swirling mass appeared in front of her. The glow of the bracelet became brighter. 

“See you- around, Johnson.” the swirling mass fell onto Willow. Johnson dropped the dagger in an attempt to weaken the woman further but instead stumbled. She was gone, her place on the floor empty. All that remained was a small red stain and a faint purple glow. The glow faded, leaving Johnson alone in the room. 

“Damnit!” Johnson threw the blade to the ground. She shouldn’t have been able to escape. The dagger was supposed to weaken her. 

The officer knocked over a nearby stack of boxes, causing clothing items to stiffly fall onto the floor. She  _ always _ got away, and he hated it. After muttering several curses under his breath, Johnson picked the dagger up off the floor. He held it a moment, watching a string of magic circle around it. The light purple matched that of the bracelet, but a deep red entwined with it. A small glow came from the engraving on the blade before it returned to being a normal dagger, one Johnson swiftly put away. 

The officer simply shook his head and left the room, grabbing the handcuffs, heading back downstairs. He carefully walked over the piles of books and other belongings in the hallway as he neared the stairs. Down the stairs, and straight for the front door. He opened the wooden door with his foot, glancing back at the empty living room. He’d get her next time, he assured himself. There was only so long she could run. 

Johnson made it to his car on the street just before a car pulled into the driveway. The woman’s husband exited the car, grabbing a bag of food. The officer watched him a moment as the man approached the wide-open front door. 

The man quickly opened the door and set the food down in the kitchen, the bag falling over as he rushed towards the living room. His eyes fell on the knife that sat on the floor, and he quickly ran up the stairs. 

Johnson chuckled before starting the engine and driving off. As much as he’d like to search for the woman, he had other things to do. Things his superiors would rather he’d get done then focus on a hunch he had based on events of years ago. None of his fellow officers seemed to understand why he had hunted the Traveler, but that was okay with him. 

“Willow!” the man called, nearly stumbling as he stopped to look at the fallen books and belongings in the hallway. His eyes fell on the red stain that led to the room, and he resumed his rush. He tripped to the ground upon entering, his eyes welled up with tears. He looked at the red stain on the floor, but his eyes wandered over to the box that fell open onto the floor. Carefully, he lifted it, analyzing it. His fingers traced the engraving on the top, and he realized the box was now empty. 

“Willow, no, Willow-” his lip trembled as he held the box close to him while he moved to sit on the bench. The box offered no support, after all, it was just a box. 

~~~

Willow wasn’t sure where she was, but she was falling. She could hardly keep her eyes open, the pain in her shoulder seeming to worsen after using her bracelet. Eventually, her fall slowed, and she landed on some solid surface. She tried to look around, but was met with darkness. She tried to call for someone, but her body betrayed her and sent her into unconsciousness. Her bracelet glowed a moment before dimming, but not before light slowly flooded the area. Had she been awake, well, the empty mirrors would’ve been a sight for sore eyes. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writer's Note: Just because a police officer is the main foe of the Traveler, I do not see all officers as the bad guys. I have respect for the police and those they protect and serve. Officer Johnson is a good guy overall but is also the Traveler's main foe. Please respect my choice in having an officer be the main foe, as he has been around a long time.


End file.
